This Charming Man?

My father told me once that I can be charming -- when I want to be. Of course he was lying and/or gooned on the Guinness at the time; still, the remark has stuck with me. So. For sport, I want to be charming all week. Yes, this is not at all unlike the episode of Seinfeld in which George does the exact opposite of his natural impulses, leading him to score a hot chick and a front office job with the Yankees. I don't expect similar results, nor do I see this being easy or even accomplishable. I mean, I pretty much always call a jackass a jackass; if I see a damn, dirty hippie, I give him the stink-eye. These are my natural tendencies. Consider that I've posted lists to this site containing 350 things that make me want to barf, things like guys who say "yelloo!" when they answer the phone and that uppity Mr. Peanut; I get peeved pretty easily. But, I will enter Bizarro world and try not to be a damn bastard this week -- I will be this charming man (though I don't have a stitch to wear). I'll let ya know how it goes. (I don't plan on leaving the house today, so Day One should be a total -- if unprovable -- victory.)